If Madonna Calls

If Madonna Calls (Offer Nissim RMX)



back in the day,
when the economy was good,
when people had money to spend,
when Gucci was not yet hip again,
when clubs in New York had style and amazing energy,

when Paris is Burning was playing for extended play at the Angelica,
when the Angelica was still cool,
when Times Square was still grungy,
when club kids ruled the world,
when special K was easy to find,
when ecstasy was the drug of choice,

when Frankie Knuckles was crossing over from amazing dj to Grammy award winning producer,
when Junior Vasquez ruled the dance floor,
bur before he was evil when his drugs were bad that night and he'd decide to play shitty music,

when Madonna would hang out at clubs in NYC just to get inspired,
but before she got inspired to record Vogue, one night at Sound Factory,
and before George Bush ruined what we now call the United States...
there was a magical place on west 28th street in Manhattan,
an old warehouse that was gutted, painted black, and inside, was installed the worlds finest speakers.
speakers that were state of the art,
speakers that made the music sound 3D.
and they played music...
music that was not recorded digitally,
music that was inspired from the kids,
music that was created in the streets,
music that you were able to dance to.
music that is still legendary.
music.
that's what it's really all about.


junior vasquez ruled the world.
this was his hay day.
this was where he lived every weekend, from saturday night
till sunday afternoon.
he'd sweat (not just from the X),
he'd laugh as he watched the crowd scream,
he'd dance,
he'd be what God put him on this earth to be...
a legendary dj.
one who could take a crowd of 8,000 club personalities and transform them into his puppets,
pulling the strings as they moved to his beat.
his nights at sound factory were what stories are still being gossiped about.
he was god.
he was working with Madonna...
how many people can say that?


until one night, when his phone rang, and he wasn't home.
the caller was madge, better known as madonna herself.
when no one answered, madge left a message.
it was simple.
"junoior, it's madonna...call me in miami."
junior, thinking he was on top of the world,
and thinking that his shit didn't stink,
decided to take that very phone message,
and make it into a song,
and then...
to all of our shocked and ecstasy'd out bodies,
about 7am when the club was just getting good,
he played it.

the queens gagged,
the chelsea queens even stopped screamed,
the voguers vogued and laughed in hysterics,
the club kids carried on,
the club and everyone of us
was part of the joke.
someone had made madonna look foolish,
why?
for no reason...
she was at her top of her world,
junior was being a cunt,
and the feud began.

never again would she call...
the game was over.

http://www.clubplanet.com/Venues/70958/New-York/Sound-Factory

brighter days

And so it was,

he now understood,

his life would change 

from bad to good.

but special thought

and intensive care

were things he needed

to take him there.

no more excuses,

the time had come

for this boy from nowhere

to get him some.

the boy was now a man

and so, you understand,

he needed to take a stand

to begin his life

as now, a man.

the days of his excessive ways

were now reserved for certain days.

he'd still have fun,

he'd still be crazy,

but now he'd have those times

when he wasn't hazy.

his life would be,

his life could be,

his dream come true,

for eternity.

because his lessons now were learned,

his past, his past,

now overturned.

he'd hone his mind

he'd perfect his craft,

he'd make amends

he'd make them fast.

for time was running out for him,

he'd no longer rely on just a whim,

for now he saw

even through the haze,

a chance to live

in brighter days

Cajmere feat. Dajae - Brighter days (Louie Vega mix)

i wonder...

i wonder if the guy who invented the camera ever dreamed that one day people would be taking pictures of explicit gay porn with his nifty little devise.
or what about the guy who invented moving pictures...
he probably is turning over in his grave knowing that now, people can get on a cam and expose their entire lives...
nothing is sacred.
everyone's a porn star...
everyone's a star.

living upstate has taken its toll on me sexually, for, when i am upstate, i don't dare even think of getting laid in he normal sense...like, actually meeting, fucking in real time, real touches, real ecstasy.
there's no one here, there's nothing nor no one to do...
so, i resort to Skype, my new best friend.
on Skype, a whole new world has opened up for me.
it, like living in New York for decades, makes it easy to have friends of all races, creeds, types, styles, etc., all over the world.
people come on and you can talk to them, like they were right next to you, in Australia, Peru, wherever.
the world got smaller.
but not small enough so that these conversations become anything more than just that, conversations, mostly while stroking your cock.
and the people you meet are not just ordinary people from down the block...well, actually they are, that's why it's all so scary. the most normal ones are also the ones who turn out to be the biggest perverts...the most extreme fantasies and made up profiles. they each become whatever they like to or wish to, be.
and the thing is, they are everywhere.
all over the world, Cam4 makes it easy to watch the world as a soap opera, you check in with your favorites, see whats up, and what outfit they have or had on, tell them to stroke, show ass, whatever...but its a universal thing, and no one seems to care anymore.

which makes me wonder...
if we are here now, already, where and what and how will we be expressing ourselves in another hundred years.

ya never know

you think it's easy being me?
well, you don't know the half of it...
imagine a world where nothing is what it seems
and everything is there for the taking,
yet when you reach out to grab it,
it poofs into air like a cloud,
disappearing.
leaving you empty,
alone,
grabbing at air,
unable to get a hold of anything
unable to grasp what just happened,
unable to cope with life without what you almost had.

the things you think are guaranteed
are gone before you know it.
the things you thought were too good to be true,
always were,
cause they always are just that.
the looks you see on everyone else' face
are ones of amazement
for they knew it all along,
and can't believe you just fell for it,
again.
when will he learn? they wonder...
why is he such a fool?
but a true fool never knows he should stop looking, reaching, hoping...
for then,
what if...
just maybe,
one day...


you never know.

its time

cars zooming by
lull me to a place i've missed
a place where i am my own man,
i am the master of myself,
my moves,
my life
has been taken from me,
my moves have been halted,
my mood has been effected,
my decisions rejected,
my intelligence neglected,
my frame of mind is not detected,
because i am now, no more, effected


its time to move on

ADELE - SOMEONE LIKE YOU (MAKENZO REMIX)

Adele - Rolling In The Deep (House remix)

we coulda, shoulda, had it all.

 SOMEONE LIKE YOU (MAKENZO REMIX)



so sad
so true
so why
still new?
the cuts run deep
through my once blue veins
making them scarlet
making them crimson...
making them never be the same.
if they heal,
they will get stronger
eventually,
even though there will always be scars.
but scars are better than what happens when,
if, they don't heal.
then,
it's just over...
and a second chance is not, ever, given.

Everything Counts

LOOK CLOSELY
AT THE SMALLEST THINGS IN LIFE.
THE SMALL THINGS ARE THE ONES THAT
WHEN ADDED UP
CREATE CHANGE
SOMETIMES FOR BETTER
SOMETIMES FOR WORSE.
BUT CHANGE IS USUALLY GOOD.

so they say everything happens for a reason.
and for every reason, there's a season
turn turn turn.
well, it has quite possibly been proved today by me,
my life, my circumstances, my future.
all in an instant,
and without the slightest inabition,
notification, rhyme or reason.
just keeping an open mind, heart and soul
you notice the slightest things around you start to change.
things start to take on shape,
words have new meanings,
places seem less scary,
memories come into focus,
the past remains just that,
and everything from that second on
begins to form again
only differntley.
with new meaning
tons more clarity,
more understanding of why things in the past didn't work
and a goal to have the mistakes not be made a second or third time.
everything makes sense.
everything has meaning.
everything is,
just the way it should,
and is supposed to be.

EVERYTHING
HAPPENS
FOR
A
REASON.

NOTHING HAPPENS
JUST BECAUSE.
the universe was not created by "because"
it was not an accident
it was not a mistake.
it was  divine,
it was built after it had failed many times before,
and so,
it should be
perfect.

sobriety

the never ending story

from the never ending pipe.

i found deep back in my desk drawer,

staring back at me

when i was trying to clean it out,"vicious pipe" i said, indeed!
i've tried my best to pull out more
but the pipe, it was not ripe.
not ripe at all for picking
just barren and alone
cracked on one side, probably,
been cracked a long time gone.
oh well, i tried,
i did my best,
i tried to curb
but my interest
was stronger than
even i,
it's not sad, no happy,
and here is why...
even though
i didn't get
the tiniest crumb
so decadent...
would have put me
back in a place
i don't wanna be,
it's not disgrace,
just how i am,
and who i'll be
six months from now,
sobriety!

inevitable.

hmmm...

change is supposed to be good, right?
well,
it usually is, especially if it's a good change.
hmmm.
here's the deal.
i was raised in the same house that i have been back, living at
for three years.
my family was sick, my nephew had brain cancer, my dad alzheimers,
me,  i just needed a "break" from nyc.
so here i am, re-living with and taking care of
(not very well they might add...but very well i'd insist),
and reliving what it's like to be a teenager again.
my mom still screams at me,
my dad yells at me to do shit around the house,
nothing's changed...
but, my time here is limited, and coming to an end very soon.
i am haded out to live with my friend jay, who,
has a great house in the country about 20 minutes from me,
and he loves buddy, and we are going to stay there while i look for an apartment in the city.
this takes place june 1st, or before.
hmmm.
so meantime, my parents are selling the home i grew up in,
the bedroom i went through puberty in,
the bathroom i've masturbated in for over 20, cough cough, years.
ooh, phlegm in my throat is nasty.
anyway, so, i guess i'm just choked up
insecure that i'll be back on my own again,
watching my folks get old has been an experience, a great one,
one i would not give back, ever.
it makes me sad to see them like this, in pain, sad, old.
hmmm.
maybe that's just me.
for the first time in my whole life,
through all of the apartments i've lived in,
all the tricks i slept over at,
all the bath houses n crack dens i done crashed out in,
i always had my bedroom in my parents house.
it was always mine.
i was still an innocent, cough cough, child,
growing up, learning about love, life, etc.,
shoplifting at benetton in
what?
oh, my entire youth was spent contimplating in that room,
in this room, i sit in as i type.
it makes me sad to think that one day, some other kid or adult or whatever
will be hanging their jeans up in,
smoking singing or making love in,
my room.
my bedroom.
it makes me sad,but it makes me happy to think that maybe my spirit will float through this room and inspire some other kid to be a freak.
i think change is good.
it's what makes us grow, achieve, aspire, to become what we are next in life.
we can't always remain stable,
we must go forth, be strong, heads high,
and start to rebuild the things that are missing in our lives that leave us unwhole.
me, i know the answer to my own issues,
but i just don't listen to myself.
i know what to do,
i just wish i'd listen.
but the words are not falling on closed ears, they are respected,
and this time,
this time...
this time!
is the time.
the right time.
when things fall into place and everything shifts toward the better,
you just have to hold on tight,
take the reins,
and go forward.

now is the time.

this is a quick, un-photoshopped photo, but who is it?

i wonder...

hmmm.

OMG

i've been missing you say...
with good reason,
i downloaded something stupid and had to have it removed by a tech.
some g-mail notice that wasn't really.
ugh.
so, today, i went to the Mac store and,
not thinking, as usual,
i let them turn on my computer, which i hadn't had on in 3 days.
what pops up?
my screen saver.
of what? you may ask...
typical.
al parker eating a big ass.
yea, of course.
thats the way life is.
you think you're being discrete, but nope.
never.
not me anyway.
i might as well hang FAG around my neck.
well, the cute guy at Mac looked at me,
laughed,

and said "you wouldn't believe the things that pop up on peoples computers."

i can only imagine.

anticipation

in the beginning,
everything seems all fun and games.
you anxiously await every second that's in store,
knowing deep in your heart that this is going to be great!
as the time gets closer, your nerves get more tangled with your emotions,
and you can't sleep,
when you do pass out,
you dream only of the moment that it starts,
anticipating it with no hope of moving your mind to something different.
no, it's here,
you're getting itchy now,
scratching, itching, anticipating!
the seconds seem like hours and the hours seem like days.
when will it get here!
why must i wait any longer!
i'm going to die if i don't get it right away!
NOW!!!
and then the second hand on the clock ticks to the moment you've been waiting for.
the world seems as if it has stoppped.
you're heart can't bare the anxiety your head has created,
and so,
when the time has come,
the moment is here,
why does it always seem to be that what you've been waiting
so helplessly anticipating,
dying to get here moment,
sucks.

it's always a let down...
and it happens every time.

the normal mind

                                                            http://www.blacksmoke.org/



what's it like to be normal?
i wondered...
where how and why does a normal mind get inspired?
who what and when does the normal eye find time to really look deep, to get a closer, or different view of something, anything, in the world?
why do i crave things that i know are bad for me?
when i do them, why do they make my mind journey to places unknown to me before,
or take me so far and dark that when i reopen my eyes when i'm not doing them, that it gives me a warped sense of perception that mutes the average world and diminishes or zooms in and focus' on it's most hideous, or incredible creatures, visions, feelings, or emotions.
how come the things that i know make me crazy, are the ones i need most?
where is my mind going when it decides to go so deep, and
what am i thinking to want to keep going back there?

how is it possible that i am not dead yet?

there's no turning back,
there's no time for shame,
cause a life without living,
is one thing about me you can't say.

i make no excuses,
i have zero shame,
i did what i did,
and it's only me i can blame.
but blame i won't do,
for i know i followed through,
and come out a better man
the proud, and the few.

so, have fun being normal,
is all i can say.
cause i wouldn't have had it,
any other way.

 erik rhodes for http://www.blacksmoke.org/

 tober brandt for http://www.blacksmoke.org/

me, sot by erik rhodes, for http://www.blacksmoke.org/

"A Song For You"

and so, the party's over.
it was fun while it lasted, but it's time to move on.
everything that i did, i did out of love,
every photo, every word, every mistake, every re-do, every hour, every minute, every second of my time, was done with the utmost care and from my heart. i try to out-do myself, every time i start something new, and this project was one that challenged me to step away from all of the photos i've taken and readjust them slightly, re-work, re-think, and re-touch them, so that they looked perfect.
i did this for you, but also, for me...
i'd like to thank so many people for always being there, listening to my drama, and helping me through it on a daily basis. they know who they are, and they are not nameless, but so close, it would just be repetitive.
stephan niederwieser gets extra special love, as he is the man i tortured through the birth of this book, he is the one who, fed up i think, gave me permission to lay out the book myself. not a very common thing, but so appreciated and the challenge was an incredible journey for me. for this, i love him.
just to give an example of why i love him, on one email back to me when i sent, what i thought, was the perfect cover, this was his reply, "you will get all of us into jail, sooner than later." LOL, i loved that.     he is one of those people who i've never met, like many of you, but he believed in me, believed in my vision, and let me do my thing...that's all i ever ask. simeon morales also dealt with me, poor thing, but he technically was great, as technical is not what i do best. so again, a million thanks.  the words i wrote, i wrote because they touched me, the helped me through difficult situations, and they pushed me to prove the haters wrong. something that hasn't been easy, since i have made many mistakes, and fallen flat, so many times, sometimes in public. but i never lost faith in myself, never let myself believe i was done, it all seems that, in looking back, at every glitch was a lesson to be learned, every corner led to another road, every bump in the road was a chance to stop, and do it over, only better this time. right.
i thank you all for being there, even when i was down. i would get emails from strangers telling me to get back up, and with every email, i'd cry just a little harder, but they helped me, so, so much, to know that someone really cared.
my last thank you is odd. it's for whitney houston, who, has always been my girl. always been there for me in song, and had gone through some very similar situations that i relate to. her choice in lyrics was personal, timely and telling of what went on behind her eyes. so many times she was my only friend, and i will truly miss her dearly.

and so, as i get set to send this off to bruno gmunder who also, i have great love for, i have to tell you, honestly, that i'm sad. it was such a privilege, it was such a milestone, it was such an amazing way to look back on what i have done, edit it, re-do it, and present it to the world.
i hope you liked it.



again, thank you, and i promise, i won't let you down, ever again.






"i've been so many places in my life and time, i've sung a lot of songs, and made some bad rhymes. i've acted out my life on stages, with 10,000 people watching...well, we're alone now, and i'm singing a song for you. i know your vision of me is what i hope to be. i treated you unkind, now darling, can't you see. there's no one more important to me, cant you see through me, we're alone now, and i'm singing a song to you."

                                                                                              donny hathaway, sung by whitney houston

You Know I'm No Good

(Ladies On Mars Remix)





am i an addict if i HAVE to have coffee in the morning?
or a xanex before bed?
or a cocktail to feel social,
or an asprin for my head?
does it mean that i'm addicted
just because i have to have
a cocktail to be social,

some crystal for sex,
a few ecstasy for dancing,
a bottle or two of k to chill and zone out,
a gallon of g to fuck like a horse,
$200. worth of weed a week pot, 24/7, just cause,
or heroin just to relax?!?

damn,
society has confused me once again.
the tricky games it plays on my poor little mind.
helpless,
alone,
staring into space just to think of,
clearly, if i am an addict?
i've been being good, so,
does that mean i'm not feinding for it right this very moment??
i think not.
as i sit alone, helpless and confused,
shattered by the very thought that,
me, joseph oppedisano,
is considered an addict.
that was like, so 2008.
but it never means you forget just how great it felt,
how strong you were,
how much fun you had.

sucks huh?

queer guy for the straight eye

what have we become,
when theres zero way to see
just who really is a fag,
and who is straight
cause it's nearly impossible.
on the outside they all look like "stylish" men.
well, that's not right,
they all look gay...
men today are so in touch with their feminine fashion side
that the guys who are obviously straight
are the guys you see in overalls or jeans n a dirty t-shirt...
wrong.
that would be the gay guy.
see,
it's because of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
that no one knows what to do with themselves any longer.
gay guys want to look butch,
straight guys wanna look stylish,
like their gay counterparts
to attract women, who,
are not intothe blue collar look as much as fags are.
it's all very twisted,
it's all very sorted and perverse...
but thats the way life is.
isn't it?
if something seems to good to be true, it usually is.
the grass is always greener,
your ex's new boyfriends cock is always bigger.
it never fails.

so, just to make that even more insane and twisted, and hard to figure out,
my friend Joel tells me yesterday that
when he was living in Dallas,
the only guys he would get laid by were straight married men.
straight married men who, by the way,
wanted to smoke up crystal meth and have bareback sex.
my buddy Joel is negative, and would tell them when his last test was,
but their reply, he says, was always the same..
"well, you look clean."
WTF!?
insanity to another level of destruction and chaos.
what would their wives say, if only they knoew where their husbands really were?
ah, who cares, it's probably casuse they weren't putting out anyway.
but the fact of the matter is,
this is happening in the world we live in.
it's real it's not rare, and it's not going away...
so, have fun suckin straight cock boys, cause apparently, there's plenty out there.

Salute

u think u know everything,
and u think that ur shit dont stink,
well it do,
and when it comes to me u dont have a clue.
took me all these years
to find out that u dont belong here
ya see i can do better
u say i'll never do better,
yea, right, whatever.

after swimming greater seas and climbing pinacles of life
it still seems that theres more to climb, more to qswim.
in the horizon,
it all looks flat, the ocean looks small, the mountains short.
they are high, they are vast.
and i know i am destined to climb and swim
for my entire life,
forever.

the body electric

power, force, motion, drive.





the basic essentials to let yourself truly achieve and construct anything, to it's fullest potential. without these there will always be something missing, something off. you need to be 100% and in top form.it's in there, somewhere. sometimes we feel it's okay to slack off at some point, and it is, but when you're
really into something, slacking off is not an option.

i am finishing the final layout for my new book, and as much work, as many hours, and as much drama has gone into it, i have been 2 million percent dedicated to it. it's my baby, and i have to say, it's pretty fuckin' amazing...when it's done, i will be sad, but in september, it'll all come back to me.

remember, the best things in life are free,
but the best things in life, also, are a lot of work.
the joy you get from working hard, causing yourself headaches and nightmares, will overshadow all of the bad, in time...it's easy to forget this, yet, at the same time, impossible to forget once you've felt it.
there's something in the air...
i feel it.